ROAR (33 page)

Traveling with Tori hadn’t been spontaneous like that in their later years, perhaps because they’d seen and done everything here so many times before. Usually, they just made a point to hit all their favorite spots.

Stop comparing Pamela to Tori.

Kristoffer held open the passenger door to the red sports car. He’d keep the roof up on the way to dinner so as not to mess up Pamela’s hair. For tonight anyway. They had all week to enjoy the wind in their hair as they drove the valley, perhaps even heading over to the coast highway at some point.

Before he’d closed her door, she smiled up at him. “Let’s put the top down.”

“What about your hair?”

She grinned as she reached up to remove whatever held her hair in place and shook it out to cascade down her back just as he’d imagined a few minutes ago. He fought the urge to wrap his fist in her hair and pull her head back for a deep ki…

He squeezed his eyes shut to banish the image. Denying his rampant sexual desire for her would be difficult this week. He took his seat, turned over the motor, reached up to lower the sun visors, and released both levers. He pressed the button until the roof was tucked into place behind them. Glancing over at Pamela, he saw she’d donned her sunglasses and rested her head against the backrest, a huge smile on her face.

So full of life and easy to please.

Damn it, this week, I want to experience life with that much exuberance again, too
. “Buckle up and hold on, Sprite.”

His use of her scene nickname had begun to come up more often in their everyday encounters, too. She’d certainly shone her light into his dark world.

Determined not to overanalyze everything, he shifted into reverse, backed out of the drive, and tore off down the road toward his favorite Sonoma restaurant.

*     *     *

Pamela leaned back and closed her eyes, letting the wind toss her hair into a frenzy across her face. She didn’t care. She and Kristoffer were going to make the most of every minute this week. She imagined they’d be enjoying many glasses—maybe even bottles—of wine in the days to come, but she couldn’t imagine feeling any higher than she did now.

Even the air smelled different out here. Drier, but sweeter, too. No wonder the area produced so many exquisite wines. Realizing she was missing the scenery, she opened her eyes and glanced out the passenger side. Rows and rows of lush vines tied to wires provided a splash of greenery in an otherwise brownish landscape.

Kristoffer pointed to a sign as they passed a winery. “That winery’s been in the same family for more than a century.”

“Wow. I can’t imagine wanting to be in business with my family that long.” She laughed. “We’d drive each other crazy.”

He chuckled. “Well, it seems to be working for them. They win top international competitions every year.”

“Will we get to sample some of them?”

“Of course. One does not come to Sonoma Valley to simply look at grapes on the vine without trying a few…or a few dozen. We can spend at least one day doing some wine tastings, if you’d like.”

She grinned over at him. “Sounds wonderful!”

While still dressed more formally than she’d like him to be while on vacation, his shoulders were less rigid, and some of the creases around his eyes had smoothed out. Hopefully, before the week ended, she’d be able to relax him even more. While he’d done most of the planning for the trip, she’d asked him to give her all day Monday to be in charge. He was in for a treat—or a nightmare, if he didn’t have the right frame of mind.

He pulled into the gravel parking lot leading up to a restaurant emblazoned with the name she’d seen numerous times on signs as they’d driven past hectares and hectares of grapevines on wires for the last ten minutes. Taking the brush from her purse to detangle her hair, she was surprised when Kristoffer wrested it from her hand. “Allow me.”

She closed her eyes and turned her back to him, letting loose of a moan of pure delight as he went to work. “I love having my hair brushed by someone else.” Or touched. No,
pulled
. As if he ever would.

“Good to know.”

She sighed. His gentle persistence managed to tame the mess much more quickly than she wanted. She wished he’d never stop. She started to pull it into a bun, but he stayed her hands.

“Leave it down.” She met his gaze. If this would make him happy, she’d comply. “Beautiful.” His praise warmed her chest. She wished he’d place a kiss on her neck, but knew that wasn’t part of the deal this week. Vacationing friends. Perhaps they’d engage in some Top/bottom exercises, but nothing more.

“I don’t know about you, Sprite, but I’m famished. You’re in for a treat.”

“You’ve been here before?”

“Yes. Tori and I tried to come out here at least once a year.”

His words dumped ice water on her spirits. He’d brought her to a place he’d visited before with his wife? Pamela wasn’t jealous of his love for Tori, but the whole point of getting away from Denver was for him to
stop
thinking about his wife for a short while.

She knew he adored his wife. To be loved that deeply by anyone made Pamela’s heart ache. Maybe there was a little jealousy involved, but only that Tori had been so lucky to find something Pamela wasn’t sure she’d ever find for herself.

Remember, he brought you here as a friend.

So maybe she was the one making more out of this than necessary.

True. She wouldn’t let petty anger spoil anything. Despite what his therapist had tried to achieve, Pamela shouldn’t have expected so much in such a brief time. He might never be available to her, even after Tori breathed her last. When would she stop pursuing emotionally unavailable men?

Pamela hated that their time together in Sonoma would be riddled with constant reminders of Tori at every turn, but Kristoffer would never stop thinking about the love of his life no matter how far removed he was from his wife physically. What made her think she could help this man start living again when he chose to remain entrenched in the past that could never be?

After putting the top up, he walked around the car and opened her door. He took her hand, helped her out, then cupped her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. “You okay?”

Determined not to let her sour mood ruin the evening, she forced a smile to her face and decided to do her best to steer his thoughts away from any previous meals he’d enjoyed here. Tonight was about her and Kristoffer and creating new memories.

“Couldn’t be better.”

The raising of his eyebrows told her he was dubious. She’d have to do better than that. They walked toward the entrance, but before he reached for it, the door to the restaurant opened.

“Mr. Larson! So good to see you again! It has been much too long. We have your favorite table prepared for you.”

“Carlo, good to see you.” The two men shook hands before the maître d’ turned his gaze to her and couldn’t hide his obvious surprise that she wasn’t Tori. He quickly recovered as Kristoffer propelled her inside the door with his warm hand at the small of her back. “Madam, would you like to check your wrap?”

Feeling as though a ghost had just walked over her grave, she pulled it tighter around her. “No, thank you. I’ll keep it with me for now.”

The chill permeated her bones as they followed the man toward their table. Even Kristoffer’s hand resting on her lower spine as he encouraged her to follow the host did nothing to warm her spirits. They were shown to a secluded table in a dark corner of the otherwise crowded restaurant when Pamela noticed a terrace bathed in sunshine just beyond the wall of windows. Surprisingly few patrons had opted to be seated out there, which made it even more inviting.

“Oh, Kristoffer! Let’s eat outside. The sunlight looks so inviting.” She hoped he wouldn’t think her too forward, but the thought of sitting in perhaps the same chair his wife had sat in would have made taking a single bite tonight impossible.

The maître d’ deferred to Kristoffer for the final decision. She noticed for the first time the stiff lines that had returned to Kristoffer’s face when he stared at the table in the corner.

Break from the past, Kristoffer.

When he looked toward the patio seating area, he visibly relaxed. Perhaps he, too, wanted to create new memories.

He smiled at her. “That’s a great idea. The day’s heat shouldn’t be too bad this evening.”

“I’m sure it will feel divine to bask in the sunshine.” She smiled. Perhaps a small victory, but a win nonetheless.

He turned toward the host. “I’m sorry, but would you mind seating us outside?”

“Of course not! Excellent choice.”

As they meandered between the tables to the terrace’s entrance, her steps grew lighter as did her heart. This trip was going to turn out beautifully—for both of them—if she could keep him in the present.

After seating her with the most amazing view of the vineyards and gardens, Kristoffer took his seat and leaned across the table to take her hand. A tingling spread from her hand and up her arm at his touch. “Thank you for this. I wasn’t expecting them to remember me after all these years, so Carlo took me by surprise in there.” His relief at not having to be seated at the table he’d shared with Tori seemed palpable.

He turned, and his gaze swept over the landscape as his once-rigid demeanor relaxed even more. “Lovely. Just what I needed tonight.” He turned back to her and smiled.

Pamela’s heart soared. Happier than she’d been since finding out about his history with Sonoma, she returned her attention to the menu. No way would she ask him for a recommendation and let him go with an old favorite of his or his wife’s.

Instead, she suggested, “Let’s be adventurous tonight and order something we’ve never tried before.”

“Sounds good to me. I sometimes get in a rut when it comes to dining.”

You’re in a rut not only with your choices of foods, my friend.

*     *     *

They spent several minutes perusing the menu in silence. Something new? He’d always gone with the beef tenderloin when he dined here with Tori. Deciding to take Pamela’s advice, he veered as far from that as he could go.

“The broiled bay scallops in white wine sounds good. I’ve never tried them here at least.”

Her face lit up with approval. “Perfect choice. I’m going to try the wine-braised pork myself. And let’s order a basket of grilled focaccia.”

“I’ll admit that’s not new for me, but it’s the best you’ll ever have.”

“Sold.”

They closed their menus and waited for their server. His mouth suddenly dry, he reached for the lemon-flavored ice water and downed half a glass. When he met Pamela’s gaze across the table, he was taken by how alluring she looked tonight, especially with her hair down. He wished she’d wear it loose more often. The early evening sun brought out the fire in her strands and left her kissable lips full and enticing.

Don’t think about kissing them.

His hands, at least, remembered how soft her skin was, but instead of reaching out to indulge himself, he reached for his napkin instead, placing it over his lap. Not that she’d have been able to see the erection he now hid.

Time to divert his focus. “Tell me about your college days, Pamela. I don’t think we’ve talked about that before.”

“Well, they were pretty typical, really,” she began. “I went to State for undergrad with a double major in biology and psychology. After that, I was accepted at the University of Chicago for medical school.”

“I imagine that was a challenging program.”

She laughed. “All medical schools are challenging. But I thrived on the competitiveness and found my niche.”

“Excuse me, Mr. Larson.” He turned his attention to the server. “Would you care for something from our cellars this evening?”

He nodded. After consulting the extensive wine list, he chose a rare chardonnay that would complement both meals, and the man went off to chill it.

She leaned forward, worry in her eyes. “May I ask you something personal?”

“Sure.” He wasn’t at all sure he wanted to answer a personal question, but he’d made no promise that he would answer, only that she could ask.

“First, it means the world to me that you took me under your wing and have worked with me on my focusing issues.”

“I’ve enjoyed working with you, Sprite.” He smiled, hoping to convey a lightness he didn’t exactly feel at the moment.

“I was wondering if you might be willing to work on something else with me, too.”

“What’s that?”

“Would you mind helping to keep me on track this week as far as my workouts? I’ve gained a lot of strength and stamina while working out at the gym, but I don’t want to backslide.”

He relaxed. This he could handle.

“Sure. We can jog, walk, or even play golf or tennis at the club, if you’d like.”

She smiled. “Sounds great. I wouldn’t mind having Roar make an appearance or two, too.”

“Are you topping from the bottom now?”

Her eyes opened wider before she grinned. “Probably. I just wanted to make it clear that I wasn’t only talking about vanilla workouts.”

He shook his head, but couldn’t keep the grin off his face, either.

Their salads were served along with the bottle of wine he’d ordered, and he proposed a toast. “To a week of sunshine, flexing new muscles, and creating fond memories.”

“I couldn’t have put it better myself.” She clinked his glass, and they each took a sip. Her smile lit up her face. “I adore this wine. Can we stock up before we fly back to Denver? I brought an extra suitcase to fill up with all the things I don’t want to live without.” She savored another sip.

“I doubt they had more than one or two bottles in the cellar. It’s quite rare.”

She swallowed, eying the bottle, and then asked, “How much does it cost?”

“That’s not for a lady to ask when the gentleman is picking up the tab.”

She set the glass down. “No wonder the wine list had no prices. I don’t know if I can keep drinking it, knowing how much it’s costing you.”

“Nonsense. The entire bottle is paid for. We should not let a drop go to waste.”

And they didn’t, although they drank more slowly, enjoying most of the bottle after their entrees had arrived to lessen the effects of the alcohol. He’d take her for a walk in the gardens before heading back to the house, even though he didn’t feel any buzz from the wine.